RECONCILIATION.
"But when in the other world, love meets love, it will not be like Joseph and his brethren, who lay upon one another's necks weeping: it will be loving and rejoicing, not loving and sorrowing."—Baxter's Saints' Everlasting Rest.
Our waking hours write bitter things
Against us on Life's wall;
But Sleep her small soft finger brings,
And draws it through them all.
Oh! sweet her kiss on tired eyes,
More sweet to make amends
Her child-kiss on the soul that lies,
And sayeth, "Come, be friends!"
One is there I have loved so long
And deep, I know not when
I loved her not with Love too strong
To change its now to then;
But Love had been with Love at war,
And bitter words had been,
And silence bitterer by far
Had come our souls between;
But now she came to me in sleep,
Her eyes were on my soul:
Kind eyes! they said, "And didst thou weep
And I did not console?
Against us on Life's wall;
But Sleep her small soft finger brings,
And draws it through them all.
Oh! sweet her kiss on tired eyes,
More sweet to make amends
Her child-kiss on the soul that lies,
And sayeth, "Come, be friends!"
One is there I have loved so long
And deep, I know not when
I loved her not with Love too strong
To change its now to then;
But Love had been with Love at war,
And bitter words had been,
And silence bitterer by far
Had come our souls between;
But now she came to me in sleep,
Her eyes were on my soul:
Kind eyes! they said, "And didst thou weep
And I did not console?
